


You Make Me Want to Be Selfish

by stealthestars



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bokuto Koutarou is a Good Significant Other, Bokuto Koutarou-centric, Bottom Bokuto Koutarou, Deepthroating, Hurt/Comfort, Light BDSM, M/M, Mentions of Yamaguchi/Bokuto, Miscommunication, Misunderstandings, POV Alternating, Safe Sane and Consensual, Spanking, Spitroasting, Top Akaashi Keiji, Top Kuroo Tetsurou, Top Tsukishima Kei, Yamaguchi Tadashi is a Good Friend, mentions of Hinata/Kageyama
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-21
Updated: 2020-10-21
Packaged: 2021-03-08 17:47:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 12,468
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27140626
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stealthestars/pseuds/stealthestars
Summary: “For love, we will climb mountains, cross seas, traverse desert sands, and endure untold hardships.Without love, mountains become unclimbable, seas uncrossable, deserts unbearable, and hardships our lot in life.”Bokuto has it all planned out. Four days off, a romantic getaway to Hokkaido. It was going to be perfect.Now if only he could get them to listen.
Relationships: Akaashi Keiji/Bokuto Koutarou, Akaashi Keiji/Bokuto Koutarou/Kuroo Tetsurou/Tsukishima Kei, Akaashi Keiji/Kuroo Tetsurou, Akaashi Keiji/Tsukishima Kei, Bokuto Koutarou/Kuroo Tetsurou, Bokuto Koutarou/Tsukishima Kei, Kuroo Tetsurou/Tsukishima Kei
Comments: 33
Kudos: 365
Collections: HQ Feels (Mostly M or E), haikyuu best boiis





	1. Love Languages

**Author's Note:**

> So this is my first fic in just over three years, but I caught the Haikyuu bug real bad and this story was haunting my waking moments for days before I finally caved and wrote it down. All 12k+ words of it lol. I haven't yet finished the manga, so I definitely fudged it on some of the finer aspects of how their later in life careers work and the timeline. So if you see something that doesn't jive with the manga, no you didn't. Pls go easy on me ahaha
> 
> It took me forever to edit this cause I was worried about any of them seeming OOC, and I wrote the ending like four wildly different ways before settling on this one. I also debated whether I wanted to post the chapters sporadically and decided instead to just slap the whole thing onto the internet at once for y'all. I'm super rusty at writing (again, been three years since my last one) so I hope y'all like it. Bokuto is my ultimate comfort himbo which means I want to make him really sad and then really happy like. Constantly.
> 
> Summary quote is from "The Five Love Languages: The Secret to Love that Lasts" by Gary Chapman.
> 
> Sorry! (but also not.)

He has it all planned out. It had taken a lot of whining and cajoling to convince his Coach to let him have not just one but THREE guests along, but he finally gave in on the condition that Bokuto was responsible for the cost of their travel and lodgings, and that he wouldn’t be distracted during the game. 

Bokuto is fine with this; he plays at his best when his boyfriends are all there to cheer him on, after all. This is a net win for both him and the team!

The timeline was tight, though. His Coach had only given in the day before today, and the team would be taking the train out to Hokkaido in the very early morning. Once the game was over, they had a whole four days off before practice resumed in earnest, and Bokuto was planning to make the most of that free time with his boyfriends. 

Once he’d gotten home from practice yesterday he spent all afternoon booking tickets and making plans. It’s actually easy to do on the sly, considering he lives with three other people. Akaashi has a deadline that night and Tsukki is studying for a big test the following day, which keeps them both in their rooms for the entire day. Bokuto is worried Kuroo might sneak up on him and spoil the whole surprise, but it turns out he has a project at work and is gone before anyone else is even awake. Bokuto sleeps like a baby despite being alone in his bed, a rare feat most evenings, but the same things that keep his boyfriends distracted from his plotting are also keeping them occupied late into the night, and that was okay. It will be worth it to see their faces when he shows them the train tickets tomorrow.

Bokuto grins at the ding of the rice cooker, scooping out a bowl for himself and Akaashi. Coffee had already been made and he added the rice to the breakfast tray he had put together in the hopes he can coax his sleepy boyfriend out of bed with some much needed food.

Tsukki has already left for class and Kuroo is at work, so Bokuto doesn’t bother to knock on their bedroom doors as he makes his way down the hall to Akaashi’s. For the most part they shared the massive bed in the master bedroom, but they had all agreed when they had been searching for a house that they should all have their own spaces. Not only for work and school, but for their own sanity too. They all loved each other but hey, sometimes you just needed to be alone for a bit, right? 

“Akaaaaaaashi,” Bokuto sing songs as he enters the dark room, taking in the lump of blankets in the middle of the bed that must be his boyfriend. Akaashi’s room is plainly decorated, as he mostly uses it only when he has an upcoming deadline and needs total quiet to work. He’s also just never been one for things and is as tidy and fastidious as Tsukki, unlike Bokuto and Kuroo, whose bedrooms are full of magazines and disorganized piles of both clean and dirty laundry.

The lump shuddered slightly but Akaashi did not emerge from it quite yet. Bokuto smiles wryly and places the breakfast tray on the bedside table, trying not to be too disruptive to the cleanliness of the room. The clock on the nightstand blinks 3:28PM and Bokuto feels a pang of sympathy for his tired boyfriend as he switches on the desk lamp. Akaashi works so hard, and Bokuto hopes that the well deserved vacation would leave him feeling more refreshed.

“Keiiiiiiiijiiiii,” he murmurs again, patting a hand on top of the boyfriend lump in an attempt to get his attention. A grunt answers him from beneath an unfathomable amount of blankets, and half of Akaashi’s face appears from somewhere among the folds.

“Go away,” the half face growls, single eye screwed up against the sudden brightness of the lamp, “and turn off the lights.”

Undeterred, Bokuto grabs at the blankets to try and pry them off Akaashi with only limited success. Akaashi may not have the muscle mass that Bokuto currently does with all his volleyball and workouts, but he’s strong when he wants to be. Especially when it comes to getting more sleep. 

“It’s almost dinner time, Akaashi. You should eat something. And I have something exciting to tell you!” Bokuto insists, tugging harder and meeting even more resistance. Akaashi’s full face finally comes into view, and the scowl on it could melt steel.

“I’m tired, Kou. I was up all night to make my deadline and now I just want to spend all day in bed. I’ll eat later and whatever it is you have to tell me can wait until I’ve slept.” 

Akaashi’s voice is terse and if Bokuto wasn’t so wound up with excitement about the trip, he might have noticed that as a sign to back off. 

Instead he laughs and tugs again, sending an unprepared Akaashi sprawling forward onto his face. The laughter dies on Bokuto’s tongue and he drops the handful of blanket like it’s suddenly scalding, resisting the urge to take a step back as Akaashi rises back up into a sitting position. 

The expression on his face is about as blank as it could be, and on any other man would appear to just be a look of mild disinterest. On Akaashi, it means you should start running in the opposite direction.

“Bokuto-san, you’re being selfish,” Keiji growls at him, voice rough with exhaustion and frustration, “Go be loud somewhere else and just let me _sleep_.” 

Bokuto feels the words like barbed arrows in his back and can’t help but squeak out a strangled “but!” in protest. The train tickets burn a hole in his back pocket. Akaashi only calls him Bokuto-san these days if he’s mad or upset at him, but Akaashi can’t really mean that…. Can he?

“But nothing, Bokuto. You’re being too much and I just can’t deal with it right now. I’m exhausted, I’m not happy with the end of my last project, and my manager is already breathing down my neck about the next one. So just. Go. Away.”

And with that, Akaashi bundles himself back up in his blanket and turns his back on Bokuto.

Trying to ignore nausea rising up his throat, Bokuto switches off the light and makes a swift exit from the room before Akaashi snaps at him again, not sure what had just happened. 

“It’s obvious what just happened. You were being selfish and you weren’t listening,” he tells himself out loud, mouth screwed up in a miserable frown. He hears a soft thud from the other side of the door and a muffled “go away!”, sending another bolt of anxiety through him. 

It’s okay, though. Akaashi is just tired. Sometimes after a deadline he could sleep the entire day away, maybe even two. Bokuto should have known better than to try and wake him, and maybe Akaashi will wake up later in a much better mood to hear what he has to say. 

And if not, that’s fine too. If any of his boyfriends are able to attend a game outside of Tokyo it’s a blessing for Bokuto, considering their busy lives and widely varying schedules. He’d be okay if only Tsukki and Kuroo make it for this trip, even if he had booked it with something special in mind. Or maybe Akaashi will join later in the week, if he felt up to it!

There’s always next time. He’d have more practice games and tournaments and there’s no need to rush.

Still, as he returns to the kitchen to clean up the mess he had made and put away the leftovers, Bokuto can’t help the ache in his chest. 

He takes his phone out and opens his text conversation with Kuroo, reading over the last couple messages from this morning to comfort and reassure himself. 

>Owl Boyfriend: will u be home for dinner tonight? i have something exciting to tell u! (๑>ᴗ<๑)

>Cat Boyfriend: ofc bo i should be home at the usual time

>Cat Boyfriend: what kind of exciting??? ;) 

>Owl Boyfriend: ull see!!!!!! it’s a secret（๑✧∀✧๑）

>Cat Boyfriend: mmm fine but only because that emoji scares me

Bokuto startles when his phone trills, signaling an incoming call from Yamaguchi, Tsukki’s best friend and classmate.

“Hey, Yama-kun! Is everything alright?” he asks, chest tightening again in a fresh wave of nerves. Yamaguchi usually texts him, he would only call if something bad has happened.

“Tsukki said he failed his test,” Yamaguchi says softly, and Bokuto guesses he’s probably pretending to go to the bathroom to make this call, “He’s so upset and I’m not sure what to do.” 

Bokuto hums to himself, considering his options. 

“He probably shouldn’t come home yet, then. Tetsurou is at work and Keiji is in a post deadline coma, so he’d end up just going to his room to sulk,” he admits, forcing the sadness out of his voice. It isn’t that he and Tsukki don’t get along, but they’re the most opposite in terms of personalities between the four of them. Tsukishima knew Kuroo the longest because of the rivalries between their high schools, and got along with Keiji the best due to their similarly quiet, tidy nature. 

Bokuto just never knows what to say. They’re much closer than they had been when the four of them had first started dating, and Bokuto loves Tsukki very much and knows Tsukki loves him too. It’s just hard for the tall blond to accept it or verbalize it sometimes, that’s all.

Either way, it probably isn’t a good idea for an angry, distraught Tsukishima Kei to return to a house where Bokuto is currently his only option for comfort. Bokuto knows this and yet it doesn’t make him any less sad to run face first into it. 

“Why don’t you take him out for dinner? He’s been talking about that new steakhouse that just opened up, it might cheer him up to get to go,” Bokuto suggests after a lengthy pause, doing the math in his head. It’s still early enough in the evening that Tsukki should be home with plenty of time to pack and get ready for the trip. He can sleep on the train if need be. 

Yamaguchi makes an agreeable noise, and Bokuto can hear the creak of a bathroom stall door opening on the other end of the line.

“Yeah I can do that! Do you know if it’s expensive? I don’t get paid until-”

“Put it all on the card, Yama-kun, it’s okay,” Bokuto interrupts him before he can finish that thought. “I appreciate your help with everything, as always. You never have to ask before using it, just let me know when you do so I know there’s a balance to take care of.” 

He makes a mental note to move money onto the card before he leaves for his trip, then writes it down on a bit of scrap paper when he reminds himself that he’ll absolutely forget if he doesn’t. He’s been putting a lot of effort into being a more “competent, fully functioning adult” these days, something that Tsukishima constantly teases him about.

“Oh, it’s- Thanks, Bokuto-san. It’s really no trouble. I’ve never seen Tsukki so happy as he is with all of you and I’m just…. I’m happy to help, really. I’ll get him to text you when he’s on the way home!” Yamaguchi replies hurriedly and Bokuto has a feeling that Tsukishima is probably getting impatient on the other end. 

“Anytime, Yama-kun. And please call me Koutarou!” he shouts back just as the phone line disconnects. 

Bokuto slowly sinks into a chair at the kitchen table and buries his face in his hands, inhaling slowly as he counts to ten, then exhaling for five. He repeats this three more times before he feels calm again, and sets his cellphone down on the table beside his laptop. 

It will all work out in the end. Tsukki will be home in a couple of hours feeling much better, and Kuroo should be home for dinner not long after. Then he would be able to tell them the great news.

Maybe even Akaashi will be up by then too, and everything can still happen as he originally planned! 

Bokuto smacks his cheeks and stands up, more resolved than ever to make this work out. He has dishes to wash and a load of laundry that needs doing before he can pack, and he doesn’t have time to mope around like this. 

Still, as he shoves his sleeves up to his elbows and grabs the dish soap and a fresh sponge, he can’t help the feeling of foreboding simmering in the pit of his stomach.

_________________________________________________________

Turns out, Bokuto’s anxiety is well warranted.

He stares at the digital clock on the stove that tells him it’s after 9 o’clock at night. Long past the times he expected Tsukki or Kuroo to be home. He had put the stone cold dinner he’d made in the fridge an hour ago, having surrendered to the inevitability that none of his boyfriends are joining him tonight.

_What if something happened to them? What if Kuroo was in an accident on the way home?_

Trembling fingers manage to hit the speed dial for Kuroo’s cell, and it rings twice before a beautifully familiar voice answers with a quick “Hello?”

Bokuto almost collapses in relief, cradling the cell to his ear as he tries to slow the rapid beating of his heart.

“Tetsu! Where are you? It’s getting late and you promised-”

Kuroo interrupts him with a low groan.

“Shit, I said I was gonna be home tonight didn’t I? I’m sorry Bo, but my boss insisted on going out, and I’m this close to getting that promotion I’ve been telling you about, and it would mean I could work from home and see you all more often,” Kuroo rambles, and Bokuto feels that sinking sensation in the pit of his stomach again. 

“You’re not coming home tonight.” It isn’t a question. You only ask questions when you don’t know the answer already, after all. 

“I’m so sorry, really. I’ll make it up to you I promise!” his boyfriend wheedles, and Bokuto can hear the slurred edge to his voice. Even if he does come home in time, he’d be hungover and cranky and probably wouldn’t be into the idea of boarding a train before the sun is even up.

“Tetsurou, this was important,” the silver haired man sighs into the phone, wondering if it wasn’t too late for him to have a drink of his own. The other line goes quiet for a moment and all Bokuto can hear is the clatter and din of whatever bar or restaurant Kuroo was at. 

“Yeah? Well this is important to me, Bo. Stop being so selfish, it was just one meal,” Kuroo responds curtly. Bokuto tells himself not to take it personally, that Kuroo can be mean when he drinks too much. 

It doesn’t help. 

“I worked so hard on this, why doesn’t anyone-!”

Kuroo cuts him off again, sharper this time. 

“Enough, Bokuto. Go annoy Akaashi to eat dinner with you if it’s so fucking important, jesus. I’ve been working for this promotion for months now and I’m finally almost there. Sometimes it isn’t all about you!”

Bokuto slumps in his chair, resting his flushed forehead against the cool wood. When did it get so warm in here?

“I’m… I’m sorry, Tetsurou, you’re right. I’m just being selfish. I’ll… The leftovers are in the fridge so you can take them to work for lunch tomorrow, okay? I hope everything goes well and you get your promotion,” he finally stutters out, swallowing down the growing lump in his throat. He knew how important the promotion is to Kuroo and yet he insists on making it all about himself and _his_ plans. 

_You’re being too much,_ Akaashi’s voice reminds him helpfully, and Bokuto closes his eyes to try and quell the scratchy heat in them. 

Kuroo pauses, clearly having expected more resistance, but apparently doesn’t question it in his inebriated state. 

“Right, well. I’m glad you see that. The trains won’t be running much longer so I’m gonna get a hotel room. I’ll see you when I get home in the morning, yeah?” the dark haired man says in a much softer tone now that the argument is over. 

The corner of Bokuto’s mouth turns up in a strained grin. Kuroo doesn’t even remember that Bokuto has a game. His game and travel information have been written on the calendar for a week, and he’d made sure they all knew he’d be gone for these few days, even if he hadn’t been able to take any of them with him.

“Sure. Have a good night, Kuroo-san,” Bokuto says blankly and disconnects the call before Kuroo can respond. 

He doesn’t even have a moment to collect himself or decide if he’s gonna cry before there’s someone absolutely massive stumbling in the front door. Or maybe two someones, as the sound of Tsukishima and Yamaguchi shushing each other reaches his ears. 

Sighing and heaving himself to his feet, he makes his way over to the pair currently struggling to take their shoes off at the door. Yamaguchi looks up at him and his flush face and glassy eyes tell Bokuto all he needs to know. 

“Did you have a good time, Tsukki?” he asks tentatively, trying not to take it personally when his tall boyfriend shrugs him off from helping him stand up. Tsukishima waves his hand vaguely in his direction, which Bokuto assumes means ‘Yes’, and he shuffles down the hallway to his bedroom in clumsy motions. Yamaguchi hovers in the doorway, clearly not sure what to do.

“I didn’t mean for us to drink so much or be out so late, but then it was happy hour, and everything was just so good that I lost track,” the brunette admits awkwardly, fumbling his hands in front of him like he expects Bokuto to lecture him. “I can leave if that’s what you want?”

Bokuto shakes his head and pats a hand on top of Tadashi’s messy hair before gesturing after Tsukki.

“No worries, Yama-kun. Tsukki seems like he’s doing okay and that’s all that matters,” he sighs, nudging the younger man down the hall. “And you’re way too drunk to get home on your own at this point. I’ll get a pair of pajamas that will fit you so you can change, Tsukki’s will definitely be too big and small on you in all the wrong places.”

Yamaguchi snorts a laugh and does as he’s told, allowing Bokuto to guide him down the hallway towards Tsukishima’s room and entering it. While he tells Tsukki that he’s staying the night, Bokuto gets him an extra pair of his own pajamas. They’ll be big in the shoulders, but at least they won’t be too tight. 

Tsukki is face down on his bed still wearing his clothes and glasses when Bokuto enters with the pajamas and two glasses of water, and Bokuto suppresses a weary but affectionate sigh.

Nothing about today had gone according to plan, but at least he could take care of one of his boyfriends for a bit. 

“Sit up and drink some water Tsukki, or you’ll regret it in the morning,” he murmurs, handing the pajamas and the second glass of water to Tadashi. Tsukki grunts and doesn’t move, so Bokuto sets his glass down on the bedside table. He carefully extracts the black framed glasses from the face smushed into the bed and moves to roll him over, meeting a lot of resistance from the half asleep college student.

“C’mon, Tsukki. You’re still wearing your clothes, you need to change or you’ll be grumpy when you wake up,” Bokuto cajoles, running a hand through Tsukishima’s hair. 

He’s batted away in an instant and electric blue eyes shoot open to glare at him indignantly.

“I’m grumpy now,” he grouses, making no move to get up or change. “And I’ve asked you not to call me Tsukki.” 

Bokuto grins at the familiar argument, patting the blond’s hand affectionately before turning to grab the glass of water again.

“Of course, Tsu-kei. Now can you sit up please and drink this water?” he replies, and Tsukishima growls from beside him. 

“I don’t need you to mother me. I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself,” the younger man snaps, snatching the glass of water from Bokuto’s hand. 

_He’s just upset about the test, don’t take it personally,_ Bokuto reminds himself, forcing the smile to remain on his face.

“I know you are, Tsukki, I just-”

“Stop calling me that! God you’re just so freaking annoying all the time,” Tsukishima hisses, and Bokuto can see Yamaguchi standing in the doorway out of the corner of his eye and is mortified that this is being witnessed. 

“Tsukk this, Tsukki that, Tsukki Tsukki Tsukki! It’s always about you and what you want and that’s just… you’re just so selfish and, and… and it’s too much! All the time! So just back off and leave me the hell alone!”

Bokuto is silent, and Tsukishima seems to realize what he’s just said because he puts a hand over his mouth and stares at him, goggle eyed. 

“Uh, listen, that’s not-”

“It’s fine, Tsukishima” Bokuto cuts him off. He’s smiling again, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. He feels like his chest is caving in on itself and wonders vaguely if this is what a heart attack is like. 

“Don’t worry about it. Just go to bed, okay? You’ve had a long day and you need some rest.” 

Bokuto refuses to make eye contact with Yamaguchi on the way out and closes the door behind him with a final snap. Perhaps harder than necessary, based on the angry thud of another pillow against Akaashi’s door. 

Whereas after hanging up with Kuroo he just wanted to cry, Bokuto feels eerily numb right now. He has to finish packing though, and attempt to get a few hours of sleep in before the van comes to pick him up with the sunrise. There’s no time for him to shut down, and he reminds himself that he left his “emo modes”, as Akaashi used to call them, back in high school.

Besides, he had brought this on himself by being too much today. Too loud, too annoying, too bothersome. His boyfriends have busy lives and it’s selfish of him to expect them to just drop everything for such a sudden trip. Sure he’d kind of secretly hoped that at least one of them would want to come with him anyways, even if he hadn’t managed to pull the group trip together, and sure he’d tried his best to be a considerate and loving boyfriend, but clearly he’d fucked it up today. 

He’d make it up to them when he got back from Hokkaido. 

Bokuto pulls out his cell and scrolls through his recent calls until he finds the one he needs. It rings a few times before the pleasant voice of a customer service representative answers the phone. 

“Hi, yeah. I have a couple of train tickets I booked earlier today that I need to cancel.”

_________________________________________________________

Kuroo is running late. He should have been home an hour ago, but his alarm didn’t go off, and then he missed the early train, so now he’s running the two blocks from the station to their house, wondering if he’ll even have enough time to shower before he has to turn back around and leave again.

Despite his splitting migraine, he hopes Bokuto will already be awake once he gets there. Kuroo feels bad for how shitty he was to him on the phone last night, on top of breaking his promise to be home for dinner. And here he is, about to break another promise and miss breakfast too. It’s a wonder how Bokuto even puts up with him anymore. 

He expects many things to greet him when he finally rushes through the front door, practically tripping out of his shoes in his rush. Silence and solitude perhaps, if everyone else is still sleeping. An angry Bokuto sitting at the kitchen table, or maybe even all three of his boyfriends eating and waiting for Kuroo to get home.

The last thing that he ever would have guessed is a red faced Akaashi sitting across from a Tsukishima who looks like he’s one word away from bursting into tears. And Kuroo means the absolute last thing. Neither of them are much for aggressive displays of emotion, and crying had never really been in their active portfolio. The shock of it stops him dead in his tracks and bile rises at the back of his throat.

“What happened? Where’s Bo?” he asks nervously, tensing when Tsukishima buries his face in his hands. Kuroo directs his attention to Akaashi, who seems to be the most put together of the pair right now. 

Akaashi swallows thickly, fingers twisting on the table in front of him. For the first time Kuroo notices a bunch of brightly colored papers in front of him covered in what appears to be coffee grounds, as if Akaashi had fished them out of the trash can.

“He’s in Hokkaido. He has that game he told us about last week,” Akaashi responds grimly, and while Kuroo is relieved his excitable boyfriend isn’t dead or dying, he feels a sense of dread at what’s about to come next. 

“Then..?” Kuroo trails off, unsure of what question he’s trying to ask. 

“Then what? Then nothing!” Tsukishima snaps suddenly, startling Kuroo. “He wanted us to come with him and we were so shitty to him he just left on his own!” 

Kuroo feels like throwing up and he draws closer to the table, catching sight of the messy papers Akaashi has in front of him. Three train tickets. Beside them is a booking for a well known Onsen that he’s heard Akaashi talk about before, and what looks like a dinner reservation to a restaurant that sounds both extremely fancy and extremely expensive. Crumpled brochures boast about hiking around Lake Mashu and the food markets of Sapporo. Kuroo remembers telling Bokuto about the Marimo that Lake Mashu is known for while tangled together one night in bed, giggling to each other between clumsy kisses about what a lake full of moss balls might look like. His blood runs cold with clarity. 

“I fucked up,” he admits hoarsely, sinking into an empty chair and burying his head in his hands. “I promised I’d be home for dinner, and then my boss wanted to go out for drinks, and you know how I get sometimes when I drink too much, and- fuck.”

Kuroo feels his eyes watering and he looks up at his two boyfriends to see them looking about as wrecked as he feels.

“I was so awful. I told him he was being selfish and, god. I totally forgot about his game and I told him I’d see him at breakfast so he _knows_ I forgot about it and I was just so distracted by trying to get my promotion, and I wasn’t thinking, and he-”

Kuroo covers his mouth, nausea building in the pit of his stomach. 

“I called him annoying,” Akaashi whispers, scrubbing his eyes with his shirtsleeves. “He brought me breakfast and wanted to tell me about the trip he’d planned for us and I told him to go away.”

His voice is bitter and tired. Kuroo knows how that feels. 

“I yelled at him! I told him he was annoying and selfish and I was so mean! He just wanted to make sure I was okay and I may as well have told him _drop dead_ ,” Tsukishima blurts out, refusing to come out from his hiding place in his hands. A soft sob escapes his mouth and his shoulders shudder with misery. 

No one says anything for a moment until-

“None of you even know the half of what Bokuto-san does for you, I think.”

Yamaguchi is standing in the entryway to the kitchen, Bokuto’s oversized pajamas eclipsing his feet and hanging loose off one shoulder. Kuroo’s first instinct is to be annoyed at this outsider for butting in on their relationship, but his desire to know what he’s talking about wins out.

“What do you mean by that?” Akaashi asks, clearly also confused. 

Yamaguchi joins them at the kitchen table and places a credit card down in front of him with a soft snap, staring expectantly at the three of them. Tsukishima clearly recognizes it based on the noise he makes, but Kuroo and Akaashi are completely lost by this point.

“Bokuto-san gave this to me,” the brunette explains, and that only baffles them more, so he turns to look at his best friend pointedly.

“You said it was a gift card last night,” Kei responds slowly, eyes narrowing. “I don’t understand.” 

Yamaguchi sighs and picks the card up again, fiddling with it.

“I’m taking this psychology elective right now, and we had a lesson on love languages. You know, the different ways people show the ones they love that they care about them and stuff besides just outright saying ‘I love you’. And Bokuto-san’s love language is giving gifts, and acts of kindness to show he’s thinking about you,” he mumbles, tapping the card against the wooden table. 

“But, Tsukki, you hate gifts. And you grump when most people try to do stuff for you, y’know? Soooo…. Bokuto-san gave me this card and he’ll, well. He’ll text me when he knows you had a late night and ask me to get coffee for us, or to cover dinner when we go out. And I always said it was cause I had a coupon, or they messed up my order and gave me an extra coffee or an extra bagel…” Yamaguchi trails off, rubbing the back of his head awkwardly.

Kuroo watches the realization creep over Tsukishima’s face followed swiftly by guilt and regret.

“But it was Bokuto this entire time,” the blond murmurs, scrunching his bloodshot eyes shut.

“He even insisted I pay for my textbooks on his card once when I admitted I couldn’t afford them for one of my classes. He said it was to thank me but, yeah. That’s just who he is.” 

The brunette turns to fix his gaze on Akaashi and Kuroo across from him.

“Akaashi-san, did you never wonder once who was ordering those food deliveries for you when you had a deadline?” 

The question is soft spoken and genuine but Kuroo watches Akaashi flinch as if it had physically struck him. 

Akaashi looks down at the table and shakes his head, fist clenched so tight on his lap that it’s turning white. 

“I… I thought it was my publisher maybe, or my manager. They would sometimes come when Bo was out of the country, so I never thought..” Akaashi mutters, still shaking his head back and forth. “He was taking care of me even when he had other things to worry about.” 

Kuroo knows what’s coming next and dreads it. He already feels lower than dirt, and he knows he deserves the quiet reproach in Yamaguchi’s voice when he turns to look at the black haired man. 

“He was the one that always made your lunches, and sent flowers or candy to work when he knew you needed it.” 

Kuroo shifts guiltily in his chair, awkwardly staring at anything but Tsukki’s friend. He had wondered if it might have been Bokuto, but it just never came up in conversation, and Bokuto never mentioned it. Had he really never even thanked him for the presents, or thought about sending something to him in return? 

“You all… I know this isn’t my business, but.. But Bokuto-san is my friend, and he loves you all too much to ever say this to any of your faces, but you should be more appreciative of him!” Yamaguchi stammers, clearly petrified that he’s overstepping. “He thought you would figure it out quickly, but the longer it took the more he thought that none of you believed him capable of doing stuff like that, so you turned a blind eye to it. And this is just the stuff he’s told me about, I’m sure there’s so much more that he does that none of you even realize! Bokuto-san is… is kind, and generous, and he loves you more than anything else in the world, and you should show him that you love him back just as fiercely and now I’m gonna shut up!” 

All three of them stare at the red faced boy, not sure what to say. On the one hand Kuroo wants to tell him he definitely overstayed his welcome on this conversation, but the other part of him knows Yamaguchi is 110% right. 

“We’ve been taking him for granted for too long, and yesterday was just the final nail in the coffin,” Akaashi sighs, rubbing his temples in a circular motion.

Kuroo groans and sinks back into his seat, rumpled suit bunching awkwardly around his midsection. 

“We fucked up big time that’s for sure. What do we do now? How can we ever make it up to him?” he whines, covering his sore eyes with a heavy palm. The migraine threatens to split his skull open like an overripe watermelon and at this point? He’d welcome it.

Tsukishima clears his throat to get everyone’s attention before he reaches out to pick up the train tickets. The departure time is long since past and he guesses that Bokuto already canceled them after putting Tsukishima to bed last night, but they give him an idea. 

“We go to him and show him how much we love him,” he says firmly, smacking his hand on the table. 

Yamaguchi cheers supportively before he cuts himself off with an embarrassed yelp, blushing deeper still when the three men before him all smile at him for the first time that morning. 

“Thank you for the much needed clarity, Yamaguchi-kun,” Akaashi tells him softly. Yamaguchi nods awkwardly, mortified now at being the center of attention. 

Kuroo feels his lips curve into a genuine grin, and his eyes narrow playfully at the brunette.

“Y’know… If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you have a bit of a crush on our Bo,” he teases, and Yamaguchi stands up so suddenly that the chair almost falls over behind him. He’s spluttering and waving his hands wildly in denial and it’s not very convincing to anyone in the room. 

“It’s okay if you do. He’s a pretty great dude after all, as you said multiple times,” Tsukishima says with a smirk, and Yamaguchi flees from the room with a despairing wail. 

“If you don’t mind watching the house while we’re gone, it would be much appreciated, Yamaguchi-kun!” Akaashi calls after him, waiting patiently until he hears a small “I can do that” from the hallway before allowing himself to smile. 

All three of them stare at one another for a moment as the reality of what just happened settles over them. Then, as one, they start moving. 

“I’ll book us on the next train out if you both want to get a head start on showering and packing,” Akaashi orders, cell phone already in hand to order new train tickets. If they leave soon then they’ll just make it in time to not miss Bokuto’s entire game, hopefully.

Kuroo and Tsukishima don’t even respond, they just turn and go to do as they’re told.

An hour later and they’re on the train headed to Hokkaido, and as Kuroo clutches the hands of the two men on either side of him, he knows they’re consumed with the same obsessive thought.

Can Bokuto ever forgive them?


	2. Something Just For Us

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Forgiveness is not a feeling; it is a commitment. It is a choice to show mercy, not to hold the offense up against the offender. Forgiveness is an expression of love."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is where things get Spicy. Chapter summary taken from "The Five Love Languages: How to Express Heartfelt Commitment to Your Mate" by Gary Chapman. 
> 
> Alternate title: Forgiveness (Can You Imaaaaaaaaagine)

Bokuto is playing the worst game of his life. He can tell the Coach and his team are ready to toss him on the bench from the stares he keeps getting. 

The train ride had been both long and uncomfortable, made doubly worse by his refusal to turn his phone on, even for entertainment. He honestly isn’t sure what terrified him more that entire trip: whether his boyfriends would realize something is wrong and are trying to call him, or that none of them had even noticed he’s gone. 

Thus, the phone stays off and in his bag. Sometimes not knowing is better.

Hinata is able to keep up a constant stream of dialogue without assistance anyways, so it was easy to pass the time by listening to him ramble about the Adlers’ latest game. Sakusa had been watching him carefully through the entire train ride and now those narrowed eyes are glaring at him as he botches another spike, landing outside the lines and giving their opponents another easy point. 

“Are you good?” Atsumu demands, shaking Bokuto out of his stupor. He blinks the sweat from his eyes, pasting on a fake smile for his setter. 

“Never better.” The lie tastes obvious even to him. Atsuma scoffs and waves a hand, walking back to his starting position so the other team could serve. 

“Whatever, man. Mess up again though and I think Coach is gonna bench you for the rest of the game.” 

Bokuto swallows thickly and his tongue feels like sandpaper. 

_You’re so selfish. You can’t even keep it together for a single game, and now you’re letting your teammates down,_ a voice that sounds suspiciously like Tsukishima’s reminds him. 

Bokuto grits his teeth and gets his arms in front of him just in time to hit a clumsy receive. It’s not his best, but it’s in the air at least, and Atsumu is able to set it to Sakusa for a solid spike and score for their team. 

_Don’t feel so good about that. It was barely acceptable,_ the Akaashi in his brain hisses, _Miya covered for your screw up._

It’s his turn to serve and the ball feels like a lead weight in his hands, taunting him in his misery. 

_Why are you even bothering? All you do is annoy everyone. Your team can’t stand you anymore than we can._ It’s Kuroo this time, cold and cruel, and Bokuto wonders if he’s right. 

“BOKUTOOOOOOOOOOOO.”

He registers his name being screamed from somewhere in the stands and looks up from his sneakers, unsure.

“BOKUTO KOUTAROU.”

Bokuto scans the crowd and when he finds who he had been unknowingly searching for, his heart stops beating in his chest.

Kuroo, Tsukishima, and Akaashi are there in the seats reserved for any family or loved ones of the Black Jackals. They look red faced and out of breath, as if they had run all the way to Hokkaido from Tokyo. 

He meets Akaashi’s gaze, willing his lungs to unfreeze in his chest. Distantly he registers the din of the crowd and the yell of Inunaki beside him that he needs to serve, but it seems miles away now.

“Stop messing around,” Akaashi mouths to him, refusing to break eye contact. 

Bokuto is transported back to hot summer days in the Fukurodani gym, and the constant frustration he always feels when he can’t get the ball to go where he wants it. 

_Stop messing around,_ Akaashi would say, sometimes accompanied by a firm whack to the back if he was being particularly challenging that day.

_Stop messing around and win._

The other team doesn’t even have a chance to register the ball screaming by them before it’s too late for them to do anything about it. The point goes to MSBY, and Bokuto grins wildly. For the first time since yesterday, it actually reaches his eyes. 

They end up winning 2-1, and yet Bokuto’s more nervous now than he had been before the game, or any game. As the team peels off to do their cool down stretches, he steals an imploring glance at his Captain, silently pleading for a reprieve. 

Meian regards him for a long moment before he sighs and waves his hand in silent permission and that’s all Bokuto needs to take off, heading for the MSBY locker room where he knows his boyfriends would be waiting for him.

And yet, for all his enthusiasm, he slows to a standstill right in front of the door, suddenly unsure. Afraid, even. 

He can still hear all three of them in his head, piled on top of one another as they call him selfish. Annoying. _Too much._

Bokuto swallows thickly and shoves open the door. He won’t add ‘cowardly’ to that list by refusing to see them, not after they came all this way. 

The squeak of his sneakers in the otherwise silent locker room seems deafening, and when he finally rounds the farthest wall of lockers and comes face to face with his boyfriends, he shudders to a halt. Seeing them like this now, after everything that had happened yesterday, Bokuto feels raw and exposed, like he’s standing on a live wire. 

“Thank you, um. For coming all this way to watch me. I appreciate that you were here,” he tells them awkwardly, not sure what he’s expecting in response. Still, when Akaashi’s face crumples into tears, Bokuto can say he definitely wasn’t expecting anything like _that._

“We’re so sorry, Kou,” he sobs softly, and Bokuto just barely resists the urge to immediately go to comfort him. Akaashi never cries. He wasn’t one for grand displays of emotion any more than Tsukishima was. That had always been Bokuto’s area of expertise, really. He’s in uncharted territory without a map right now and it scares the shit out of him.

“Um. Okay, I guess. But for what?” Bokuto asks nervously, shoving his hands in his pockets to prevent himself from fidgeting. Kuroo and Tsukishima make matching strangled noises, kind of like a clogged drain.

“For? For what? For all of it, Bo. For every shitty crappy garbage thing we said yesterday, for not listening to you when you tried to talk to us about the trip, for never telling you how much we appreciate what you do for us every single day,” Kuroo protests, and Bokuto is surprised by how desperate he looks. “We were the fucking worst and you didn’t deserve any of that.”

Bokuto blinks owlishly at them, fingers curling into fists so tight that they ache. 

“Oh. No, it’s okay, you don’t have anything to apologize for. You were right. I was being selfish and, well. I promise to be less annoying in the future,” he murmurs, shrugging and looking down at his sneakers. He’s startled when a pair of hands are suddenly grabbing him by the shoulders and shaking him, and he’s further surprised when he looks up to see that it’s Tsukishima losing his cool. 

“No. No! Don’t you dare say that, don’t you dare act like the way I treated you was okay!” the tall blond snaps, backing Bokuto up until his back is against the cold metal lockers. “Nothing that we said to you yesterday was okay, or true. Not a single word. Do you hear me, Bo?”

Bokuto stares up at him in shock and his mouth opens and closes like a fish, struck entirely speechless by the emotion in his boyfriend’s voice. 

“I actually like it when you take care of me, I like it so much it hurts, and I’m just… I was embarrassed to admit it,” Tsukishima says softly, his cheeks turning a ruddy pink. “And I maybe… don’t mind it that much when you call me Tsukki. Everything we said yesterday was an ugly, terrible lie.”

Bokuto blinks, unsure of what to say to that, but something akin to cautious hope begins to take root in the pit of his belly. 

“Like Tetsurou said, we were the fucking worst, and we don’t deserve you. And we’re so, so sorry for the things we said. And we want to make it up to you, if you’ll let us?” Akaashi’s voice is soft and watery as he appears over Tsukishima’s shoulder, touching the blond’s elbow to get him to release Bokuto. 

“Please. Please we’ll do anything you want, just let us make this right,” Kuroo agrees, and Bokuto swallows thickly around the lump growing in his throat. It feels like his lungs are filling up with syrup, and he’s unsure whether the sensation is good or bad. 

“The, um. The team will be in here soon. You should go before you end up with an eyeful of naked, sweaty volleyball dudes,” he says finally, and the despair on their faces squeezes his chest like a vice so he’s quick to add, “But I’ll give you my hotel key, and I’ll meet you there after Coach lets us go?”

Despair turns to relief and Bokuto forgets how to breathe at the reminder of how beautiful his boyfriends are. None of them try to touch him again before they take the key and go, which he’s grateful for. He’s still not sure how he’s supposed to feel right now and perhaps the time between now and his return to the hotel will be enough for him to figure it out.

_________________________________________________________

Bokuto half expects to come back to an empty room. What if they were just messing with him? What if they took his stuff and went back to Tokyo, having realized what a waste of a boyfriend he is? He hasn’t had thoughts like these since they first started dating, and he was unsure and insecure about their feelings for him.

How could it be possible that three beautiful, talented men like them could ever be attracted to someone like Bokuto, with his messy hair and too big eyes and obnoxious mood swings. And yet he came home every time and they were still there, defying all logic and common sense. 

It’s the same now, as he steps into his hotel room using the spare borrowed from his Coach. All three of them, sitting on the giant king bed, waiting for him. He didn’t understand it. 

Bokuto shuts the door and drops his bag by his feet, suddenly nervous again and unsure of what to do. He’d planned out a whole speech while showering in the locker room and the second he came face to face with them it evaporated from his memory like smoke. 

He swallows and his throat clicks dryly. He feels like it’s their first date all over again with how much he wants to throw up. Approaching the bed is terrifying and every step feels like he’s walking over hot coals until he’s standing at the end of the bed.

“I know I can be a lot sometimes,” he finally says, anticipating that one of them might try to interject and holding up a hand to stop Kuroo before he gets further than the first syllable. “Please, just… let me get through this.”

The black haired man sits back down on the bed next to Akaashi and nods, prompting Bokuto to start up again.

“I know I can be a lot sometimes. I’m clingy, and I’m loud, and I’m not the best at reading between the lines. When I latch onto something I just can’t let go of it, even if I probably should.”

He sees the pained looks on his boyfriends’ faces and plows on, determined to get to the end. 

“I’m the weird shaped puzzle piece that feels like it shouldn’t belong, and the longer I go on with this, the longer I know I’m just being selfish in refusing to let you go.”

Akaashi is crying again and Bokuto’s chest aches so bad it’s hard to breathe.

“But… you make me want to be selfish.”

He feels the tears on his own face now and lets them fall. He’s not sure he’ll be able to finish what he needs to say if he acknowledges them right now, when he’s flayed open so raw and vulnerable.

“I love all of you more than I can possibly bear sometimes, and I don’t want to let you go. Let _this_ go. Even the weird shaped piece is still part of the whole, and it wouldn’t be complete without it. I want this to be forever, no matter how difficult it gets. I’ll do whatever it takes to make this last. So please, just… don’t give up on us?” 

The room is deathly silent for a moment save for the quiet drip of Bokuto’s still wet hair on his now damp t-shirt. What if they turn him down? What if they decide they’re better off without him? 

His spiral is interrupted by three pairs of hands reaching out and pulling him down onto the bed with them, and the dam that had been keeping back all the pain and loneliness he had felt since yesterday morning finally breaks. 

Bokuto allows himself to be manhandled between them as he sobs, burying his face into the nearest chest in an attempt to hide his misery. There are hands in his hair and on his back, soothing, reassuring. He feels tears that aren’t his own splash onto his skin and knows he’s not the only emotional wreck in the room right now.

For some reason that’s… oddly comforting. 

Time escapes him for a bit as he lies there, drifting in and out of orbit even after the tears have dried up. He finally recognizes the chest he’s buried in as Kuroo’s by the spicy smell of his deodorant, and he attempts to drink in the familiar scent of him as surreptitiously as he can. Akaashi is sprawled on top of Bokuto while Tsukishima is spooned up behind him, and it feels so good to have them all here with him again. 

He catches Kuroo’s gaze when he finally peeks out from the safety of his now tear damp t-shirt, suddenly shy despite everything that had just happened. 

“Hi,” his boyfriend teases, and Bokuto will go to his grave before admitting to the heat that bloomed in his cheeks. 

“Hi,” he mumbles back. Before he can go back to hiding in his shirt though, Kuroo catches his chin and tips his head up to look at him again. Bokuto closes his eyes just as Kuroo’s lips meet his own and the last, lingering dregs of anxiety melt from his body in an instant, turning him into mush. 

The kiss remains innocent for a few moments, but it isn’t long before Kuroo’s tongue is delving into his mouth and the heat blossoming in Bokuto’s belly makes him suddenly very aware of Akaashi’s firm body on top of his own. 

He tries to squirm free, only for Tsukishima’s long arms to wrap around his torso and hold him still. He’s convinced that his blond boyfriend was sent straight from hell to torment him when he presses his mouth to Bokuto’s ear, licking along the delicate shell before whispering, “We promised to make it up to you, so let us spoil you for tonight.” 

Tsukki’s rough, deep voice had always been a bit of a weak spot for Bokuto, and if he had been standing his knees would be in danger of giving out. Instead, he does what he’s told and stops trying to fidget away, allowing Kuroo to pull him back in for an even deeper, filthier kiss. 

Akaashi is sitting up now, legs sprawled across Bokuto as he straddles his waist but keeps the pressure off where he wants it most. 

“Stop hogging him, Tetsurou,” he growls, and they all know what _that_ voice means from Akaashi. 

Immediately Kuroo releases his claim on Bokuto’s now puffy lips, and the wing spiker is left panting for breath, hooded yellow eyes staring up at him begging for more. 

“How far do you want to go tonight, Bo?” Akaashi asks him, shooting a warning look at Tsukishima when the youngest tries to slip a sly hand up Bokuto’s shirt.

Bokuto takes a moment to consider the question, mouth still tingling from Kuroo’s thorough conquest of it moments before. He knows there’s really only one right answer.

“As far as you’ll let me, Keiji,” he whispers, and a thrill of pride shoots through him when his boyfriend smiles approvingly.

“Good boy, Kou.”

Bokuto doesn’t even notice that Kuroo and Tsukishima have pulled back enough to start undressing, so enthralled he is with those words. The former setter doesn’t hand out praise easily and Bokuto cherishes every single syllable.

“Take off my clothes and then yours,” Akaashi orders, and Bokuto doesn’t hesitate for a second before he’s tugging desperately at his boyfriend’s shirt, consumed with the desire to feel skin against skin. He falters when Kuroo and Tsukishima suddenly return, mouthing distractingly at his throat while he struggles to untie the string on his shorts. 

His movements become panicky when the knot refuses to budge and Akaashi’s hands are on his, stilling him before he hurts himself. 

“It’s okay, Bo,” Kuroo whispers, kissing a line across his jaw to soothe him. “Let us take care of you.”

Bokuto’s shorts finally join the rest of their clothes somewhere on the floor, and he sighs as the comforting weight of Akaashi’s body settles on top of him again. He can hear Tsukki and Kuroo making out sloppily above him while Akaashi bites his way down Bokuto’s chest and stomach, purposefully avoiding where Bokuto would like him to be most right now and instead sinking his teeth into the flesh of his upper thigh. 

“Have we told you how fucking gorgeous your legs are recently?” the former setter sighs against the fresh bruise he’s just etched into Bokuto’s skin, making him shiver. “They’re so thick. When I see them my teeth start to ache with how much I want to taste you.”

Bokuto barely gets his hand up in time to muffle the ragged moan Akaashi’s words rip from his throat, then drops it in a hurry when he realizes he’s broken a cardinal rule. 

Never silence yourself unless ordered to. 

Kuroo snickers when Akaashi sits up, thunder in his face as he cocks his head down at the mortified wing spiker. 

“Color, Bo?” Tsukki asks him softly, combing his fingers through Bokuto’s now mostly dry hair. It takes him a second to get his bearings and his boyfriends wait patiently for an answer, the hand on his head still petting soothingly.

“Green,” he finally rasps out and he watches Akaashi’s demeanor transition back into the scene through watery eyes. 

“Then roll over,” Akaashi commands, rising up onto his knees so Bokuto can flip obediently onto his stomach. Hands on his hips force him onto his knees but Kuroo’s hand between his shoulder blades keeps his face down, leaving him open and on display for them. Mortification rips through him but he doesn’t dare resist when Akaashi knocks his knees a bit apart, leaving his thighs to strain a bit to hold him up. 

Akaashi sighs, though it isn’t an angry sound, and Bokuto shivers as a broad hand smoothes over his lower back. He tries to hide his face in the blankets but Tsukki’s hand in his hair turns suddenly harsh, fingers grabbing and tugging until he’s forced to look up at him and Kuroo. 

His mouth waters at the sight of both of them hard and dripping in front of him, and he keens low in his throat and tries to reach out for them until a sudden WHAP pulls him back to reality. Heat erupts from where Akaashi had just smacked him and strong hands are pulling his arms behind his back, binding his wrists with what feels like a scarf maybe. 

“Did I say you could touch?” the younger black haired man demands, and Bokuto whimpers before shaking his head. Another warning smack, and he blurts out a verbal “No, Keiji!”

Bokuto can feel his head going deliciously foggy in a way that only Akaashi can pull out of him, and he desperately wants more. 

“How many should I give you for being so disobedient?” Akaashi husks from above him, teeth sharp against the red mark blooming on Bokuto’s ass. “How about twenty. Ten for trying to muffle yourself, and ten for trying to take without permission.”

Bokuto whines pleadingly, shuddering when Tsukishima tugs on his hair again. 

“Yes! Yes, please. Please I want it so bad,” he begs, fingers clutching at the fabric of the scarf for any kind of lifeline. Akaashi makes a pleased noise and squeezes the tender flesh teasingly.

“Count them out, baby. If you miss one then we’ll have to start over. But if you’re good and make it to 20, I’ll let you suck Tsukki off, okay?” he croons, making Bokuto whine again deep in his chest.

The thing about Akaashi is he can always tell when someone is at their limit, and Bokuto isn’t quite there yet. Hasn’t arrived to the point where he can just let go. 

And so the first spank is loud and harsh, making Bokuto jerk forward with a strangled yelp of “One!” 

The second one lands on the sore spot left in the wake of the first. Hot pain licks its way up Bokuto’s spine.

He almost forgets to count by the time they arrive at ten, sobbing the number when Akaashi pinches bruised and tender flesh. Kuroo pets his hair back from his sweaty forehead, kissing away tears as he attempts to remember how to breathe.

“Color, baby?” he asks in a low murmur, signaling for Akaashi to wait a moment while he and Tsukishima wipe his face.

“Green! Green, please, please, I need it,” Bokuto whimpers, crying out when his request is immediately granted in the form of a solid spank on the tender flesh of his upper thigh. He’s floating when they finally reach twenty, his entire body on fire and aching to be touched. 

Akaashi’s mouth is like a white hot poker on the abused, raw flesh of Bokuto’s ass and he mewls desperately, sweat damp chest heaving for air. His cock hangs heavy and neglected between his legs, begging for any kind of contact to push him over the edge.

“Please, I was good! I was good I need it, I need it!” he begs in a half scream and immediately Akaashi is there, cleaning the mess from his face with soothing swipes of his thumb. 

“Shhhh, baby. You were so good for me, so good. I’m so proud of you. We’re gonna take care of you, alright? It’s okay,” Akaashi purrs, cupping his face to make him look up. Bokuto stares adoringly at him, wide eyes glassy with fresh tears. He trusts them all implicitly with everything he has, and that should probably terrify him but all he can think about is how much he loves them. 

“Open your mouth wide, baby. Kei is gonna fuck your throat while I open you up for Tetsurou. You can come if you need to, but if you do then you can’t come again until Kuroo and I are finished with you. Understand?” 

Bokuto whines again, obediently parting his lips as wide as they can go. When his gaze shifts over to Tsukishima, he sees the blond looks about as wrecked as Bokuto feels, and something about knowing that he has that kind of effect even on Tsukki makes his heart beat faster.

Kuroo is prying one of his hands open while Akaashi disappears to dig lube out of one of the bags, and Bokuto feels the cool, familiar shape of a metal volleyball shaped keychain against his palm.

“If you need to stop or slow down just drop it,” the black haired man whispers against his shoulder before kissing the sweat damp flesh. Bokuto visibly tightens his hand around the keychain, determined not to let it fall, and Kuroo’s laugh is full and throaty, making the silver haired man shudder. 

The bed shifts with Akaashi’s weight as he returns, and Bokuto hears the snick of a plastic cap just as Tsukki’s long fingers grip his chin tight and pull him back to the task at hand. He opens his mouth wide again, silently begging to be used, pleading not to be teased for once.

But of course this is Tsukki, and instead of giving Bokuto what he wanted right away, he always tormented him a little first. This time is no different as he grips himself in one hand and Bokuto’s hair in the other, keeping him immobile as he brushes the flushed, wet head of his cock against the corner of the wing spiker’s mouth. 

Bokuto chases his dick with his tongue, desperate for a taste that is denied by a swift flick of Tsukishima’s wrist. Instead, the blond leaves a line of pre come across his cheek and jaw, pulling back when Bokuto tries to catch him in his mouth. It’s only when the first desperate tears slip down his cheeks that Tsukishima finally relents with the teasing, moving the hand from his hair to his jaw again to force his mouth open wide. 

Bokuto’s muscles are screaming for respite but he doesn’t even register their complaints when Tsukki’s cock finally slides down his throat, dragging a ragged moan from him. He loves sucking Tsukki’s cock about as much as the rest of them apparently adore his thighs. It’s longer than Akaashi’s or Kuroo’s, but less girthy, and the weight of it always sits on his tongue so, so nicely. Akaashi has apparently had enough of watching at this point, because slippery fingers are prodding at his ass, sending a fresh wave of shivers up Bokuto’s spine. 

He gags as the head of Tsukishima’s cock touches the back of his throat because he knows how much Tsukki loves it when he’s sloppy, staring up through the messy fringe of his hair to watch the pleasure play out on his pretty features. The youngest pulls out, making him whine with the loss, only to gag again when he thrusts back in. Tsukishima tortures him like this for several long, agonizing minutes, wrenching noises from Bokuto that should probably be illegal. Bokuto drifts, hazy and content to be used for as long as Tsukishima wants.

Finally, long fingers stroke against his throat, warning him to relax the sore muscles as Tsukki draws back once more. 

“You can come if you need to,” Akaashi reminds him from somewhere far away, fingers sliding out of the man beneath him, and Bokuto hazily thinks he can probably last a little longer right up until, without warning, Kuroo thrusts into him at the same time Tsukishima’s cock buries itself down his throat. 

He comes so hard he sees stars, and he gurgles out a scream around Tsukki’s cock, shuddering through each crescendoing wave of pleasure until his muscles threaten to give out. Kuroo doesn’t give him a chance to catch his breath, fucking him through his orgasm with rapid, unyielding snaps of his hips. 

Bokuto’s mouth is empty again but he only has a moment to mourn that before Tsukishima is coming on his face, stripes of white painting across his cheeks. He tries to catch as much of it as possible, but before he can swallow it Tsukki’s grip on his sore jaw tightens, preventing him from closing his mouth.

“Show me,” he growls, and Bokuto obeys, opening wider to show him the come on his tongue. Satisfied, the blond releases him and sits back, eyes hooded and face flush with satisfaction.

“Good boy. Now swallow for me,” he purrs and Bokuto swallows, opening his mouth to show that he’d done what he was told. He nuzzles his face into Tsukishima’s thigh, reveling in the praise before he’s suddenly yanked down the bed and flipped onto his back, crying out when the raw, aching flesh of his ass makes contact with rough cotton fabric. The mess he’d made when he came is smeared across his stomach and back, making a further disaster of an already thoroughly wrecked man.

Kuroo fills his vision and Bokuto automatically spreads his legs, begging to be filled again. He doesn’t need to ask twice and when Kuroo thrusts back into him Bokuto sighs instead of screams, not caring that his arms are pinned uncomfortably beneath him now, or that his thighs and ass are begging to stop. He’s long floated past caring about all of that and he closes his eyes as Kuroo sets a brutal, unforgiving pace. 

Bokuto knows he’s going to feel this for days and right now? He can’t imagine anything better than that.

Akaashi’s back and Bokuto croons as rough hands wipe up the come from his flushed red face, swollen lips parting obediently to allow it to be fed to him. Two long fingers thrust down his throat and Bokuto sucks on them enthusiastically, panting around them with every long, deep thrust of Kuroo inside of him. 

“Where do you want me, Keiji?” Kuroo grunts, and Bokuto’s glad that the fingers withdraw from his mouth so he can sob out a strangled “please, inside!”

The question hadn’t been directed at him, but surely he’d been good enough to earn this? Akaashi considers for a moment before making an agreeable sound, pressing a kiss to the corner of Bokuto’s puffy lips.

“Sure, baby. Inside,” he promises, and Bokuto’s next cry is swallowed by Akaashi as Kuroo thrusts three more times and then stills, coming deep inside of him in hot, pulsing waves.

He barely feels it when Kuroo pulls out and flops down on the bed beside him, nor when Akaashi reaches under him to untie the knots and pulls his arms in front of him. Strong hands massage the pins and needles from his aching shoulders and Bokuto floats, loose limbed and blissfully empty. 

“‘Kaashi, you too,” he mumbles, struggling to wrap his tired arms around Akaashi’s lean form. “You promised.”

He sighs contentedly when Akaashi slips between his quivering thighs, and Bokuto spreads them as best as he can in his near stupor state. His body is raw and oversensitive but he opens easily to let Akaashi inside and Kuroo’s come makes a filthy squelching noise as he’s filled up again. 

Bokuto can’t do much more than cling to his boyfriend as Akaashi starts to move his hips, shivering as heat builds in the pit of his belly one final time. His face is wet with tears and Akaashi kisses each and every one away. Hands that were previously harsh and unyielding are now soft and soothing. He tells Bokuto how much they love him, and how good he was for them, and how proud of him they are. 

Sweet somethings that fill up every crack and chip in Bokuto’s bruised and hurting heart until he finally feels whole again. 

“Come for us, Kou,” and Bokuto feels Kuroo and Tsukishima’s hands wrap around his weeping cock, giving it a few firm strokes before he’s sobbing his release against Akaashi’s throat. Sticky heat fills him again and he knows Akaashi came too, and that more than his own orgasm is what makes him feel satisfied. 

Bokuto doesn’t register when he passes out, but when he resurfaces again he’s clean and dry. Someone put his shorts back on him at some point and he’s grateful for the cool silky material between his aching ass and the scratchy fabric of the hotel sheets.

Prying sticky eyes open, he notices that he’s curled up around a dozing Kuroo, and the weight pressed against his back must be Tsukishima since he can see Akaashi sitting up in bed beside the tangled trio. His reading glasses are perched on the end of his nose while he browses through his phone.

“Keiji?” he tries to ask, embarrassed when all that’s left of his voice is a wrecked, rasping whisper. It catches his boyfriend’s attention nonetheless and he takes a moment to admire how mind numbingly hot he is with his glasses when that piercing gaze shifts to meet Bokuto’s.

A soft smile spreads across Akaashi’s lips and he sets his phone aside in favor of leaning over to comb his fingers through Bokuto’s hair, filling the wing spiker with warmth spreading through tired limbs like sticky sweet molasses. 

“Hey, how are you feeling? You passed right out, I was worried we were too rough,” Akaashi asks him gently, cupping Bokuto’s cheek to pet his thumb along his swollen lower lip. Bokuto leans into his touch, sighing as his eyes slip shut again.

“It’s what I needed,” he answers plainly, knowing Akaashi will understand what he means by that. He loves his boyfriends equally and with an almost reckless abandon, but there would always be something extra between him and Akaashi by virtue of their close friendship in high school. He had been his setter, and knew him better than anyone else in Bokuto’s life. That didn’t stop just because they no longer played volleyball together.

It takes some tugging but he finally gets Akaashi to put his glasses aside and sink down into bed with the other three, tangling their fingers together on Kuroo’s gently rising and falling chest. 

“How did you guys get into the game? I thought they prevented people from entering while the players were on the court,” Bokuto asks, suddenly curious about their unexplained manifestation in the middle of his horrible game. They would have been on the list of people allowed into the family section without a ticket, but even family couldn’t just come and go when a match was being played. 

“Tobio-kun helped us sneak in,” Tsukishima grumbles in his ear, tightening the arm slung over Bokuto’s waist to keep him close. Bokuto snorts and then winces as just about every muscle in his body protests the sudden movement. 

“Hinata still doesn’t know that he comes to some of his games, I’m guessing?” Akaashi chuckles, resting his cheek on Kuroo’s bare shoulder so he can look at the other two.

“Kageyama hasn’t figured out that Hinata can’t shut up about the Adlers games too I’m sure,” Kuroo grunts, eyes still firmly shut against the dim light of the bedside lamp. 

Bokuto smothers a grin in Kuroo’s arm, trying to avoid another painful laugh.

“Not a clue, either one of them,” he confirms, closing his eyes to drink in the simple domesticity of the moment. He’s not sure he’s ever been quite this happy in his entire life and he’s ready to drift back to sleep again when a thought suddenly strikes him and he struggles to sit, resisting the pull of Tsukishima’s arm until he’s finally upright.

Or about as upright as someone with a thoroughly destroyed backside can manage, which is more of a sloping lean against the headboard, but close enough.

“Can you get my toiletries bag from my luggage?” he asks his confused boyfriends, and Tsukishima slides out from behind him to do as asked, clearly interested in where this was going. 

Bokuto takes it with eager, but nervous hands and opens it up, pausing with his hand still concealed inside the bag.

“So… I kinda had a whole plan for this involving Lake Mashu and the breathtaking sunrises I’ve heard happen there. But I think… I think it feels right to do it now, in this moment. And if I’ve learned anything this week it’s that plans can fall apart, but winging it? Can’t go wrong with that,” he says wryly, feeling all eyes on him as he withdraws his hand from the bag to reveal a black velvet box.

Akaashi’s breath catches in his throat and Bokuto covers the box, looking pleadingly at him. 

“You can’t start crying because then I’m gonna start crying too and I want to say everything I had written down,” he whines, grinning broadly when his boyfriend laughs, sniffling and then nodding for him to continue.

“So. Yeah. We’ve been together for a long time. Some days longer than others, sure, but all of them more amazing than the last. And I know our lives are kind of messy and crazy, and that we can’t _actually_ get married and all. But I figured we can still wear the rings, and it’ll be something for us, even if it isn’t legal. We can even have a small ceremony with our friends and family?” 

Bokuto feels he’s rapidly approaching the limits of his very sore throat, so he opens the box to reveal four simple silver bands nestled inside. Ordinary and unassuming to most people but absolutely _everything_ to them. 

He hears the first real sob and looks back up, surprised to see that it’s Kuroo out of all of them that had broken. His hand is over his mouth and he looks absolutely overwhelmed, twin red spots sitting high on his cheekbones as he looks between Bokuto and the rings. Akaashi and Tsukishima don’t appear much more composed, eyes glassy and hands trembling on their laps. 

“Is… that a yes?” Bokuto asks awkwardly after several moments of silence, grinning when that gets a laugh out of his boyfriends.

“Of course that’s a yes, you volleyball for brains,” Tsukishima protests, voice wet and strained with emotion. He puts his hand out for Bokuto and the silver haired man positively beams, taking out the ring he’d had made for Tsukishima and sliding it onto his left ring finger.

It fits perfectly of course. It’d taken a lot of sneaking around but he’d figured out ring sizes for all of them and ordered these custom made. Special, just for them. He presses a kiss to the ring, unable to restrain himself, and he’s surprised when Tsukki actually allows it without complaint.

What a wild day it’s been.

“Inside each one is etched our old jersey number from when all four of us met,” Bokuto explains softly, picking Kuroo’s ring out of the box and sliding it onto his ring finger too. “I wasn’t sure what to put at first. I wanted something that only we would understand, y’know?”

Akaashi gives him a watery smile as Bokuto puts the final ring on his former setter and now, technically, his current fiancee. “Something just for us,” the black haired man agrees, and Bokuto bites his lip, trying to hide how impossibly, overwhelmingly happy he is in this moment.

“Something just for us.” 

Later, as Bokuto lies curled up with his future husbands and tracing his thumb along the warm silver of his own ring, he thinks maybe it’s okay to be a little selfish.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for sticking this out to the end! For the record, they're all switches, and if I decide to make this a series then I'm def gonna play that up. This specific story just called for Three Tops One Bokuto.
> 
> And if people have any interest in a KageHina follow up to this story........... hmu.

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me on twitter @bokutowl12 ! I'll probably start posting Haikyuu drabbles and plot ideas and teasers there as I get back into the swing of writing so feel free to follow. :')


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